The Redpills
by Michael Weyer
Summary: Inspired by the Path of Neo game. In between the first and second films, five people learn the world is not what they believe it to be.
1. The Healer

The Redpills

By Michael Weyer

I don't own the Matrix or its characters so don't sue.

This is based on the recent game "The Matrix: Path of Neo." Specifically, the section taking place between the first and second films as Neo is sent to rescue five "redpills," individuals who have discovered something…off about the world around them. All comments welcomed.

One: The Healer

My name is Xiang Chiang.

I live in Chinatown, my second home. My first was in the old country, where I grew up learning our special trade. I am a healer as was my father and his father before him and so on, back nearly eight generations.

I have been taught to know not just the physical world around me but the world that exists just below it. The world that most ignore but that has greater significance than the mere flesh and blood. It is the world that contains the energies I use for my work.

I am aware Westerners sniff at me and my methods. They believe their educations make them surer of how the mind and body work. My ancestors were performing seemingly impossible healing centuries before these universities and their devices came. Thus the people of this neighborhood are more willing to turn to me for aid than these doctors that charge too much.

There is a price for what I do however. A price that comes with age and my abilities. I see things. Things that no one else does, sights that do not congeal with the world around us.

I have seen the world tinged in green where others see only bright sun. I have watched when a sudden storm comes into the city, one that seems to appear without warning. I see something happen in such a time, a flash of green, of symbols that almost resemble Chinese but…not quite.

I have kept these observations to myself. Somehow, I know that others will not see what I see. Or rather that they will not accept seeing them. One thing a man learns when he lives as long as I is that people (particularly Westerners) will only see what they want to see and have a difficult time accepting the world is not the way they believe it is.

Despite what I see (or perhaps because of it) I understand there are rules and laws to this world. I know that there are illnesses man was not meant to heal, that attempting to do so will incur the wrath of the gods and bring demons down upon you.

But when one's loved ones are ill…when one's only child is on the brink of death…then a man may do anything to save her. As I have. I knew the risks and I would not hesitate to do so once more. I love her. She is my life. But the gods make no concessions. And so I wait for what I know is to come.

It comes in a way I did not expect.

I feel him before I see him. I feel the shift in the world as the door opens and the bell rings. I have felt it sometimes, fleeting but always recognizable. The feel of one who is not of this earth, who is not truly human. And I know this is my time.

I turn to face him. I am at first struck that he does not look like a demon. He looks like a rather handsome man, dressed in a black cloak that flows around him and dark glasses. But then, I should expect a demon not to look like a demon. That is their way.

He stares at me and I slowly nod back at him. "You have come for me."

"I have," he says in a deep voice.

"I felt it," I reply. "It is my fate, I know." I slowly make my way around the counter, heading to the rows of jars along the shelves. "I am prepared. Shall we go?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Just like that?"

"Yes."

"No arguments? No fight?"

I frown. "You have many questions for a demon."

"Demon?" He sounds confused and for a brief moment, I actually think it's genuine. But then I brush those thoughts away. A demon relies on trickery, after all. "There is no need to lie to me. As I said, I have expected your coming."

"I'm no demon," he says as he comes forward and once more seems to mean it. Perhaps when one accepts deceit as part of life, he can even fool himself.

I make a small smile. "It is no matter. Not anymore." I look over the shop once more before facing him. "I am ready. Lead me on, demon."

"I'm not…" He stops and shakes his head. "Never mind. Follow me." He turns and makes his way toward the front of the shop. I follow him, curious as to why he does not simply take us away with his magics. Perhaps there are more rules to demons than I believed.

We exit into the street and I feel something…off. The streets are quiet, far too quiet for this time of day. It is now that I see the police cars and a large van. I see the men in uniforms scattered about with their assault rifles. I hear them yell at the demon to freeze and surrender.

I sigh. Fools. What hope do mortals have against a demon?

"Stay here," he says and then he moves. Any doubts I might have had over what he is vanish as he becomes a blur, hurling himself at the nearest two officers. Faster than my old eyes can follow, he has stripped one of his rifle and smashed it into the other's face. He opens fire, blasting away at two other men, sending both down. The rest fire their guns but he dodges their bullets, his body contorting in amazing ways.

I hear more gunfire, but this far closer and from different weapons. The door of a nearby building bursts open and several young men of the neighborhood come out. "Protect the Healer!" one yells.

I recognize them. The Red Dragons. The authorities will call them a gang but they are truly the self-proclaimed protectors of this area. It is thanks to them that the drug gangs will not peddle their filthy wares here. I have known many of them since childhood and have treated them when they needed it. I cannot help but feel a flash of pride as I see them risking their lives for mine.

The police back away under the assault, many seeking cover as some of them go down under fire. The demon continues his work, his aim seemingly truer than the Dragons', his opponents unable to fight back. He backs toward me. The Dragons continue to file onto the street and keep the police back.

"Shall we go?" I ask once more.

Once more, he seems to regard me quizzically. "You are either very wise…or totally cracked."

I cannot help but smile slightly at that. A demon with a sense of humor. How interesting. Before I can speak, a ringing sound echoes in the small alleyway. The demon reaches in and pulls out a small phone. "Yeah?" He frowns and looks across the street. "You sure?"

I follow his gaze, toward an alleyway that leads to another section of town. I see it then, the strange green flash and suddenly a wall appears out of nowhere, cutting off any avenue. I blink and gaze at the demon. I can tell somehow this is not his doing which makes me wonder if the gods are playing some sort of game with me.

He continues to speak. "Where?" He pauses and looks to me. "You know how to get to the train station from here?"

I nod. "Yes, there is a special entranceway."

He speaks into the phone once more. "I can get there. Have Trinity waiting." He hangs up and nods to me. "Lead on."

I head back into the shop as he follows. I regard him carefully as I move to the nearby shelf. It was part of the store when I bought it, I can only wonder at its original purpose. I pull a jar and a section of the shelves pulls away. "I have had wards placed upon this building," I say as I watch the shelf move. "But then, to gods and demons such as yourself, such things are merely trivial."

"Why do you keep calling me a demon?"

I shake my head. "There is no need for deceit. My choice was my own." I reach up to grab one jar and open the lid. "My time as a healer is over. It is time to move on."

I tap the jar enough to pour a small pile of powder into my palm and turn to the demon. I regard him carefully before speaking. "I do not know why you fight for me, demon. But I believe I can help you." I hold up my hands and blow and the powder sails around him, covering him.

He coughs and waves his hands before him. "What the hell!"

"You may find that beneficial," I say as I head to the exit. "Your strength and your focus will increase, which may be quite the boon."

"At least warn a fella next time," he says as he follows me into a small storeroom leading to the rear exit.

The glass windows shatter inward and two men dressed in darker uniforms swing inward on ropes. The demon does not hesitate but kicks one in mid-air, sending the man sailing right back out the window. The other lands on the ground but a pair of blows send him smashing into a nearby wall.

I do not pay attention as I know the outcome. I unlock the door and pull it open. It leads into an alleyway that connects to a side street. The demon brushes past me and heads forward. He has barely taken two steps when uniformed men burst out from either side of the alley.

Again, the demon does not hesitate. He simply pulls out a pair of large guns and begins to fire, sending the men down in bloody heaps. I do feel a twinge of pity for them, I must admit. But my soul is calm for I know my fate. This demon has come for me and nothing will stop him from his task.

"You do know they're shooting at us, right?" he calls out. "You're just going to…walk on through?"

"Why should I be afraid?" I call back as a bullet flies past my ear. "You have claim upon me."

He mutters something under his breath, something along the lines of "How does Morpheus do this?" I wonder if this is some sort of demon hierarchy I am stepping into. Perhaps I will discover that soon.

We finally exit into the street and I feel something…something wrong. It feels somewhat like the demon but…darker. Which brings to mind the question as to just what can be more evil than a demon?

I see a figure approach. He appears as normal as the demon, a man in a dark suit and glasses. But where he walks, I see the air around him charged, flashing in that strange green way. But more than that, I feel an aura of darkness, of hate, of evil. It strikes me once more that if this is evil…then what is this demon?

"Stay here," he says as he calmly strides forward. He and the suited man stare each other down for a long moment. Then they move.

All they do is move, movements I cannot follow, blows that are blurs. I see the demon leap high, stepping onto a pillar and walking up it. He leaps off and his foot smashes into the suited man's face. The suited man stumbles back and the demon is upon him, punching him in the face.

The suited man grabs the demon and throws a series of blurred punches into his midsection, each one seeming more powerful than the first. He hurls the demon away toward a wall. The demon lands feet first on the wall and sails out, his fists extended. The suited man is caught full-scale by the blow and is sent sailing away into a lamppost. A lamppost that is hanging just before a puddle of water.

The suited man lands in the puddle, dazed. The pole is literally bent in half and with a creak, comes apart, the light smashing into the puddle, the glass shattering and wires exposed. I know what is coming before the suited man does. He stands stock still, jerking about as electricity fills him. His body seems to blur, his features changing until there is a man in a police uniform. He stands there for a moment, confusion on his features. Then he falls to the ground and moves no more.

The demon turns to me. "Are you all right?" I am struck by the true concern in his tone as I nod that I am. Without a word, he leads me up a flight of stairs to the train station that awaits us.

I know the train's schedules by heart. Having a shop right underneath the tracks necessitates such knowledge. So I know that no train is scheduled to arrive for another fifteen minutes. And yet, I feel no surprise when one comes up, nor that it is empty.

The demon turns to me. "Follow this. Someone will be waiting for you when it stops. Follow them."

I frown. "You are not to take me to my final destination?"

He shakes his head. "I have…other duties. But I will see you there. Believe that."

I do as I enter the train. I sit down and it starts to move. I gaze at the window as the demon watches me, once more feeling an odd warmth in his gaze. I turn away and settle into my seat. I am content. My time has come, my fate is decided.

Little do I know that I have one more decision left to make. A decision that will show me what the world truly is like. And the truth of this demon.

**Next: The Librarian **


	2. The Librarian

The Redpills

By Michael Weyer

Two: The Librarian

My name is Claire Hodges.

I'm a bookworm. I always have been, ever since I was a little girl. I was the only child on my block who didn't ask for dolls or toys or dresses. I wanted books and good ones as well. Dickens, Austen, Wells, Verne, everything. The better the literature, the more I devoured it.

It continued on through school and I suppose my social life was lacking. I just never felt able to connect to normal people. Not when I could just open the pages and let a whole new cast of characters whisk me away. So, ok, I may be called a nerd and a geek but at least I'm a well-read one.

So I suppose it's not a surprise that I ended up working as a librarian. It's a good job, my dream job really. I'm surrounded by books all the time, I do my best to make sure they're in place and best of all, I can help young people discover the same love and magic in reading that I have.

But…that's changed.

I don't know how it happened. I don't know why it happened. All I know is that my job has just gotten far, far more complicated than it should.

I guess I should admit I've long had a touch of obsessive compulsion within me. I think it's common among other super bookworms. It helps with my work, I have to admit that. Learning Dewey decimal system is a snap after my usual routines. It helps with my system. I even have a small plaque of it by my desk: "A place for every book. Every book in its place."

Which is what makes this so incredibly insane.

I was making my rounds as normal, placing books back on shelves and tidying up. It's afternoon so there are a few people around, mostly college kids studying in quiet. I'm walking about, the very model of a librarian with my business skirt and blouse, my dark hair pulled back and glasses on my nose. I've been told if I glammed up, I could be quite the looker but I don't have much time to go out these days.

At the moment, I don't care about any of that. All I care about is what I'm seeing. Even though I can't believe it.

I pull a book out to hold it for someone. I take the title from a list I'm given. It's the same routine I've had for years, day in and day out. I pull a book and put it on my cart, right where it's supposed to go.

It's not supposed to be back on the shelf when I turn back.

At first I think my eyes are playing tricks on me. I see the book on the shelf. The exact same book in the exact same spot. I frown and reach up, pulling it out again. I look it over, examining it carefully. I hold it next to the book I took off earlier. They're identical. Exactly identical.

I shake my head and look up and it's there again. The same book! I pull it out and watch this time. There's a flash of green, a bizarre string of symbols and it's there again. I pull it out and once more, the green flash and it's back. I pull it out again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

"No…" I whisper with each pull. "No, this can't be happening." I keep pulling it out, a small pile of books on the floor beneath me as I add to it. "It can't be…a place for every book…every book in its place…"

I keep pulling, again and again and again but it won't stop reappearing. I can feel the tears forming in my eyes as my anxiety gets to me. "Not right," I whisper, sinking to my knees. "It's not right…"

"Ms. Hodges?"

I turn and see two men behind me. They are both in suits and dark glasses, each wearing what looks like an earpiece. They are fixing me with blank gazes and I can't shake the feeling they're studying me like a bug.

"We need you to come with us," one says in a flat and emotionless tone.

I shake my head. "No…no, I can't. I have to stay here…I have to…" I try to steady myself. "This isn't right…something's wrong."

"We know," one of the men states. "Come with us."

Something tells me that I don't want to do this. Something about these men feels so wrong. I brush any thoughts aside and concentrate on the books. "Please..I can't leave…"

"I don't think she wants to go with you."

All three of us start at the sudden voice. The two agents turn to see a man standing before them. He's clad in a dark overcoat and is also wearing sunglasses. He's not bad looking either but I'm too wrapped up in fear to notice.

The two suited men exchange a look and then move in. The younger man reacts faster, grabbing one and throwing him into a stack of books nearby. He then blocks a kick by the other before punching him toward some shelves.

The fight breaks the hold of terror on me and I obey my first instinct which is to run. I rush up and around, toward a ladder leading up to the second floor landing. I climb up it quickly and reach the landing. I turn to look down at the fight below.

I see a flash of light on metal and somehow I know what it is. I yelp and leap back as a bullet flies past me, fired by one of the suited men. I move to run down the landing, trying to make my way to the exit as another bullet whizzes by.

There's a blur and suddenly a man lands on the platform before me. I freeze in place, staring in shock. That's impossible. A person can't just leap up from the ground floor to up here. He just can't.

It's one of the suited men, I realize. I also realize he's aiming a pistol right at my head. "Failure to acquire the subject," he says out loud. "Termination protocol approved." I just stare blankly as he starts to squeeze the trigger…

And there's a blur of black as the other man is there, kicking the gun away and throwing him into a wall. I take off, running down the hall, heading to the exit. I burst in and shut and lock the door behind me. I slump against it, heaving for breath, unable to accept any of this. I hear sounds of gunfire, of blows, of grunts and yells. Then I hear a voice.

"Are you ok?"

I recognize it as the man in the trenchcoat and I can hear myself sob. "No…no, I'm not. I don't understand any of this…"

"You saw something, didn't you?" he calls out. "Something that wasn't right?"

"A book…it kept appearing. NO matter how many times I pulled it out, it kept appearing."

"What book?"

"_Alice in Wonderland_."

I hear a deep sigh. "Why should I be surprised…Listen, I'm here to help. Just trust me. Stay here."

"What's going on?"

"You saw something you shouldn't have. Those men want to stop you."

"So…they're…the library police?"

"Ah…something like that. Look just stay there."

But I don't want to. I just want to run and I do, heading down the hallway and toward the main hall. I see the large glass window overlooking it, leading to the stairs. I'm heading there when my heel catches and I feel my body stumble into the glass.

I scream as I fall, twisting around to grab the edge. I yell loudly as I feel my shoulders strain in pain. I look down and see I'm dangling a few feet over the stairs. "Hold on!" I hear and I look up to see the trenchcoat man before me. He leaps over my head, landing on the ledge beneath me. He holds his hands out and I let go, falling into them.

There's a crashing sound and we both look up to see a quartet of men in SWAT uniforms enter the skylights on ropes. He puts me down on the stairs and motions to the landing above. "Stay out of the way," he says as he reaches into his coat and pulls out what look like a pair of mini-rifles. He starts running as he fires, and I see two men go down immediately.

I go to my knees, covering my ears, yelling in terror at the sounds of gunfire, my mind reeling from this insanity. I feel something behind me and I turn to see a policeman pointing a rifle at me. I open my mouth to say something but he suddenly shudders, his face marked with pain. He seems to let out a silent scream as his entire body contorts, changing in shape and shade.

I feel my mind reel from what I'm seeing. It's like some twisted version of Bradbury or Asimov as I see the cop turn into one of the suited men, the rifle replaced by a pistol, which is aimed at me.

Once again, there's the blur and once again, the trenchcoat is there. I crawl backward, unable to look away as the two fight. The suited man grabs the younger man and hurls him down the stairs. The other man lands on his feet and then launches himself up and flies-----flies!----upward, flipping around to kick the suited man. The suited man sails up to the ceiling, smashes into it and falls down. The other man is waiting for him and just as the suited man comes into range, nails him with a punch that sends him sailing across the hall.

He smashes headfirst into the far wall, his body slumping. His hands move up as if to push out but then his body gyrates and flashes. I see the policeman's body, sticking out of the wall like a cartoon.

The young man is before me now, holding out his hand. I look up at his face and see concern there, true concern for me. Like the hero coming to rescue the damsel fair. "Are you ready?" he asks.

I pause. Somehow, I already know what I'm going to say. "No. But…I guess I don't have any choice, do I?"

"Actually, you will have a choice," he says as he takes my hand and helps me to my feet. "But I believe it's one you'll want to take."

"Will…will there be a library where we're going?"

He chuckles as we walk "Actually, yes. And we could use someone with a good eye for them."

"I'm…I'm good at that. A place for every book…"

"Every book in it's place."

We walk away together as my story in one world ends and a new chapter begins.

**Next: The Security Guard**


	3. The Security Guard

The Redpills

By Michael Weyer

Part three: The Security Guard

My name is Keith Hastings.

I've walked the halls of this church a dozen times in the last month. No, I'm not a priest. I'm a security guard. I used to be a cop but…well, something happened. It's an old story, never thought it'd be mine. There was a shooting and…well, I became a security guard.

It's not a bad job, pay's good and the work isn't too bad. I'm basically around to make sure there aren't any break-ins. Yeah, people will break into a church, as surprising as that sounds. Usually local punks causing trouble, sometimes looking for something to rob and sell for drug money.

So it's not the fast track to becoming captain that I wanted but it's a good job overall. I can rest in the day and work nights into early morning. The pay's good and I still got my pension. And I'm still in good shape in case trouble comes.

Now when you work in an old church, you get used to seeing some odd stuff. Shadows and the odd cat coming by, noises popping out of nowhere. I get used to it fast but I admit there are times this place can feel…spooky.

I'm usually good handling it but tonight…tonight, I saw something. Something I can't explain. Something I know I couldn't really have seen. It's what brought me up to the tower, the large staircase.

I still have a police scanner that I use. I tell people it's to listen in case there's some suspect on the loose who might hide out here. Truth is, I keep it so I can stay connected, so I can still feel like a cop. So I was listening when they talked about a guy on the loose, someone involved in a cop shooting in Chinatown and some sort of mess at the library.

It was reported that the suspect might be in the area and I was on alert. I saw something, I'm not sure what. It looked like a man but…It couldn't have been. It just couldn't. A human being can't just walk up a wall. It's just not possible.

I'm in the tower, checking the wall where it happened. I shine my flashlight up the stone surface, looking for something, anything, that can explain what I saw. I hear a sound and I whirl around, my flashlight reaching into the corner. "Who's there? Come on out!"

I see a shadow move and come forward, forming into the shape of a man. I size him up immediately with my cop's eye. Young with slicked back black hair, dressed in some odd big black overcoat and dark glasses. "Stay there!" I say as I fumble for my gun.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, Officer."

I pause at his strong and calm voice. "How…how do you I know I used to be a cop?"

He doesn't speak but just stands there. I move the flashlight closer to his face, trying to sense why he's familiar…

And then it clicks.

It's him. The guy from that office building about five months ago. I was just one of the cops assigned to help out the feds. I don't know why they wanted this guy, they just did. They were weird too, even for feds, suits and sunglasses, always seeming so intense. They were after some guy named Anderson, for what, I don't know.

This guy could run, I'd give him that. He managed to slip out of his cubicle before we could get there and kept going. He made his way outside, even though we were on the 30th floor. He managed to use some scaffold and a window washer elevator and all this other shit to keep sneaking away.

We finally caught up to him in the basement where he was running hard toward the exit. I yelled at him to stop but he wouldn't. I opened fire and I saw it hit him in the shoulder, saw him stumble into the street. He fell down and into a manhole. We sent some guys down to find him but…nothing.

That was what got me kicked off the force. Shooting a guy in the back is not good publicity for the department. Even though we couldn't find a body, there were witness to the shooting. So I broke a deal to quit in return for no charges pressed and took early retirement.

Even though there was no body, I've given up thinking the guy could be alive. After the bullet and the fall, he should be dead. And yet here he is, right in front of me, like the angel of death, staring at me hard.

"Officer," he says. "We need to talk."

I back away, a sudden fear gripping me. "No…no, you're dead…I killed you…"

"No, you didn't." He keeps coming to me. "I'm here because you're in danger. What you saw tonight----"

"Stay away! Just…stay away!" My panic comes through and I turn and run. I race up the stairs trying to stay away from this…thing following me. I hear him chasing after me, calling. "Don't run! If you killed me, how can I be here now?"

I don't answer but keep running as I fumble for my radio. I'm about to pull it out when I hear sirens wailing nearby and breathe relief. I see the guy come up the stairs and I do my best to quiet my racing heart. I hear the sound of heavy footsteps coming by, a formation, I recognize well.

"SWAT's coming, buddy!" I yell out. "They'll deal with you!"

"They're not after me!" he calls out as he approaches the landing I'm standing by. "I'm your only way out of here, Officer!"

There's a rush of footsteps and I see a platoon of SWAT guys coming in, loaded for bear. I move forward and their commander nods to me. "Go upstairs, Officer. We'll deal with this psycho."

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking first how did these guys come down from above? Second, how could they have shown up so fast? And third, how did they know I used to be a cop?

I should have asked those questions myself but when a guy you think is dead pops out of nowhere and comes after you, you don't really have time to process stuff. So instead, I just listen to a fellow officer (okay, former fellow officer) and take off up the stairs.

As I run, I can hear gunfire wailing, not just the cop weapons but something else, the sounds of some sort of automatic weapons firing wildly. Somehow I know it's Anderson and I can hear him fighting with the cops. Normally, one guy against a pair of full SWAT teams is no contest. But this guy…something tells me he can handle it.

I burst into the top of the tower. It's an old place with some of those huge bells spread around. I'm heaving for breath, trying to make sense of all this. I hear a loud booming sound and the building seems to shake a bit as if an explosion went off. I back away and nearly run into a suited man.

I can't help but yell as I see him, startled by his appearance. "God, you almost gave me a heart attack!" I yell.

"My apologies," he says but doesn't sound apologetic at all. He's dressed just like those feds from months back, the same suit, glasses, everything. I wonder if they clone these guys somewhere. He looks me over before speaking. "I take it you saw Mr. Anderson?"

I nod. "Yeah…how can…how can he be here?"

"It is of no consequence," he states. "What is important is that you will be able to deal with him when he arrives." He steps forward, fixing me with a gaze I can feel behind his glasses. "This man is a killer, Officer Hastings. He has killed several of your fellow officers. He deserves no mercy."

Now on the one hand, I feel his words. I do still consider myself a cop and when one or more of us go down, we all feel it and want some payback. However, as a cop, I also have some instincts and right now, they're telling me that something is wrong about this, way wrong.

Before I can ask more questions, there's the sound of footsteps and Anderson shows up. He sees us together and stops. "You see, Officer?" the fed asks. "He's no ghost, no specter back from the grave. He's just another common criminal. So do your duty."

I lick my lips as my gun comes up and I move in the professional stance. "Ok…don't move! Put your hands on your head!"

"I'm not here to hurt you," Anderson says. "Your life is in danger."

"I said put your hands on your head! And get on your knees!"

"This man is lying, Officer. You don't know what he is."

"He is refusing to comply, Officer Hastings," the fed says in a calm voice laced with some menace. "Do your duty and shoot him."

"Officer…" Anderson is looking right at me. "Don't do this. You know it's not right. You know this guy is trouble."

"I said-----"

He moves faster than I can follow, pushing me aside and knocking my gun away. The fed moves in but Anderson kicks him back hard. The guy comes back though by grabbing Anderson and the next thing I know, he's nailing Anderson with what looks like ten blows at once that sends him down. Anderson kicks up and nails the fed. The guy staggers back and Anderson leaps up, his legs kicking out like a bicycle and sending the fed smashing near me.

I'm just frozen in place, stunned by what I'm seeing. Anderson looks at the fed, then at me and takes a breath. "If you want to live, you'd better come with me."

Before I can reply, a feel something cold and hard against my temple. "So, Mr. Anderson," the fed says as he stands right next to me, his gun pressed into my head. "Your reputation is well-founded."

"Whoa…what the hell are you doing!" I yell.

He ignores me as a sneer comes to his lips. "Well, if I cannot destroy you, then I suppose I must deny you your prize."

I glance at him, then at Anderson and I realize he was right. I don't know what about but this guy, whoever he is, is not here to help me.

Before I can speak, before I can realize the fed's finger is tightening on the trigger, Anderson is on him. The gun goes flying away and Anderson grabs the fed's arm and punches him twice. Then he leaps up and his leg swings out and dammit, I can _feel_ the impact as his foot strikes the fed in the chest and he goes flying back. He hits the glass window nearby and smashes through it, not even crying out as he goes flying out of the tower.

There's footsteps and I whirl to see two SWAT guys come in, rifles set. One moves around to a small alcove while the other aims the rifle at us. He suddenly jerks and seems to cry out in pain and his body…shifts. I don't know how to describe it, it's like something is coming out from under his skin and suddenly…

I can't believe I'm saying this…

The fed is there, his gun out and aimed at Anderson and already firing. Anderson just flips around in the air, seeming to float a bit as the bullets fly past him. He's still in mid-air as his foot smacks the fed in the face and knocks him back.

I'm frozen in shock by the sight until a bullet whizzes past my ear. I move on instinct, ducking down and watching as the SWAT guy fires his rifle at me. He's moved into a small alcove under one of the bells, still firing the rifle and I know he's not willing to listen to anything I have to say.

I duck and cover, moving behind a scaffold for protection as the bullets whiz past me. I duck out enough to fire off a couple of rounds and then move back as the return burst comes at me. I try to peek out again and I see Anderson blast the fed with a double punch that sends the guy rolling along the floor and under the alcove.

I don't even see Anderson draw the gun or aim. His pistol is in his hands and firing right at the bell hanging over the alcove. I see a small spark as the rope is cut and then there's a huge-ass smashing sound as the bell crashes into the alcove and on top of the fed and the SWAT guy.

I cough at the wave of dust sent up by the crash, waving my hand before my face. I step out and look at the debris then at Anderson. He's looking to me and I see the concern in his face. "Are you ok?"

I weakly nod. "Yeah." I look around the place and then face him again. "What the hell is going on?"

He's pulled out a cell phone and is speaking into it. "Where's the nearest hard line?" He listens and nods. "Okay, meet you there." He snaps the phone shut and looks to me. "If you want to know why they were after you, come with me. I might as well tell you that doing so is going to mean a big change to you. To how you look at the world." His eyebrow rises over his glasses. "But…It also means a chance for you to do what you used to do."

"What?" I ask in surprise. "Be a cop?"

"Not exactly," he says as he heads back to the stairs. "But you can serve and protect people, I can guarantee that."

I pause before following him. I don't know why I trust him so much. Those instincts are kicking in again, I suppose. As I follow a guy I thought was dead, I can't help but think that this setting is completely appropriate for taking a new path in life.

**Next: Skull's Lament**


	4. Skull's Lament

The Redpills

By Michael Weyer

Part four: Skull's Lament.

My name is Chuang Tzu.

My path in life is unimportant. I was born, I grew, I learned, I lived. It is a simple tale, perhaps more…elegant than others but it is not the reason you are listening to my story. It is something else that you wish to hear.

I was once like you. I once followed a strict path to life. I believed that I could find my way through natural means. It is what led me into the ways of martial arts, to learn how to fuse both my body and my mind into one and thus be able to understand the world around me.

Without ego, I state that I learned my lessons quite well. My teachers said I was a natural for the arts and I learned the skills quickly. I have used them since, with a small dojo where I teach others, hoping I can show them the same skills.

However, it was on a trip back to my home country that I discovered the means to learning what the world is truly like.

In my travels, I found a skull, lying on a small stone. There was no body, just the skull itself. It was odd, I could tell but I have seen some things in my life I cannot fully explain. As I lifted the skull up, I was filled with sorrow, questioning things in life and how fragile existence can be.

I took the skull with me, heading back to my small camp. I used the skull as a pillow and lay down upon it to sleep. As I slept, the skull appeared in my dream. I have had such dreams before, visions that have guided me on my path. But I have never had a vision as vivid as this.

"You are a fool," the skull stated.

"How so?" I asked, curious as to what he meant.

"You rejoice in the entanglements of life. You feel happy and confident simply being alive as if that is a great accomplishment. You believe life is of such great value and should be enjoyed so well. You truly believe this world is worth living in."

I was surprised at his words, I must admit. But I kept my rejoinder cool and calm. "If I could return you to the life you left, surely you would want that."

I believe I made an excellent point and yet the skull stared back at me, as if stunned by my foolishness. Then he asked one simple question.

"How do you know it is so bad to be dead?"

His words carried with me when I awoke and when I came back to America. They still carry in my dreams as I mull them over and balance them with my view of the world. The skull's words have made me realize this life is not as I think it is.

I am in my open-aired loft, working on a painting. That has been my other passion, art. I do my best to put what I feel onto a canvas. Lately, they have been filled with images, images that come to me without my even realizing it. Images of men in suits and the skies filled with odd symbols.

I am working on such a painting when the door opens and I feel an odd ripple of energy in the air. I turn to face the man entering. He is tall, in a dark suit and glasses. He appears to be a man to some. But I see something else. I see his aura, an aura that is not of a man but….something else. Something that wishes me harm.

He steps forward, his face impassive as he reaches for me. "You will come with me," he says as he comes up to me.

I turn back to my painting, not speaking, simply stroking the canvas with my brush. I can feel, if not see, the glower on his face at this insult as he reaches his hand and places it on my shoulder. "I said-----"

I spin around, my face lashing out to smash the man in the jaw. He drops back and seems more stunned by the fact of the blow than its force. I follow it up by punching him twice across the face and then lash a kick into his stomach. He tries to fight back but I catch his fist, bend his arm back and leap up. I extend both feet into his stomach and send him flying back to the door.

He smashes through it and lands into the hallway. For the first time, I notice the sound of gunfire and the screams of men. I back away from the door, puzzled yet oddly not surprised by these events.

The gunfire stops and a man steps through the doorway. He is dressed in a black trenchcoat and glasses. He seems to be gazing at the man I threw out and then to me. He nods slowly. "My name is Neo," he says.

I simply stare back, my body at the ready. I do not think he is a threat and yet I do not know what he truly is. He steps closer and speaks again. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here because you're targeted for death. If you want to live, you'll have to come with me."

I take in his words, I judge them and then I reply. "I follow no man until I know him." I move myself into a fighting stance. He seems confused but then nods in understanding. He bows and moves into his own.

I strike first with a kick, which he blocks. He then throws a punch that I dodge around and return with a blow of my own. We trade blows, moving around my loft. I leap over a low kick he makes and race up a pillar to the small landing above. I run to the end and leap down to continue the assault.

He meets me with a kick that sends him sailing into a table. I land on it and balance myself. He rushes to meet me and I kick at his face. He bounces back, his feet rising to knock the table over. I lose my footing and he is there, catching me and leveling me with blows to the chest. He finally hurls me to the wall.

I land on my feet and face him. I realize that whoever this man truly is, he is worthy of respect. I move into a neutral stance and bow. He returns it, his face showing the same respect towards me as I towards him.

Before either of us can speak once more, the windows to my apartment shatter inward and a pair of men in police uniforms enter. Without asking, I know they are not what they appear to be and move to intercept them. One has his rifle out but I roll on the ground to avoid his burst and kick out, first knocking away the rifle. Then I rise to my feet and punch up in one fluid maneuver to send him flying back.

I turn to see that Neo has defeated the other trooper. There's a shadow of motion and two men in suits drop into the room. They appear to be the same as the man who was here earlier, down to the dark glasses. They do not appear pleased to see Neo, which speaks more of the man's character.

He and I share a long look that communicates better than words. Then we move. He kicks one of the agents back as I go at the other. He blocks my first blow and my second and grabs me, prepared to attack. However, Neo is on him, striking him with a flying kick. The agent stumbles back and we both go on the attack, smashing him with dual strikes, the man gasping and crumbling, unable to form a defense. A double kick sends him flying against the wall, smashing through it and outside.

The other agent rises and moved but again we move as one against the invader. This one manages to defend himself better, even knocking Neo back. But I am able to strike at him from behind, a kick to his head that obviously rattles him. This sets him up for Neo's kick that sends him flying back. With a blur of a move, Neo pulls a pistol from his jacket, snap-aims and fires a full round of bullets into the man. He lands in a heap, his body twitching and changing until a man in a police uniform lies on my floor.

As the man replaces his gun, the phone on my desk rings. I stare at it then at Neo. "I assume that is for you?"

"For us, actually," he replies. "If you're willing to see what your real life is like."

I do not pause but simply follow him to the phone. As I do, I believe I finally realize what the skull was attempting to tell me. That perhaps you must let one thing you call life to die…in order to learn what real life truly is.

**Next: The Key**


	5. The Key

The Redpills

By Michael Weyer

Part five: The Key

My name is Rebecca Norton. Becca to my friends.

I guess I'd have to admit I'm your typical high school junior. I act up a lot, I go shopping, hang with friends. I'm okay with school but it's way too boring. I get my real education afterward, at night.

It really does help to be an only child whose parents never pay attention to you. Dad's busy at work, Mom's got work and her "social obligations" so they just throw me whatever cash I need and barely notice I'm gone.

So I go to parties. A lot of parties. I usually wear the same style of outfit, short skirt and boots, knee-high socks, jacket, tie and dark spectacles. Tonight, I feel like a red theme which I think shows me off well.

It was at one party that a guy gave me something. No, not that. It was a key. That's right, a key. The guy looked frazzled about something and told me to keep it safe. Even said some garbage about my life being at stake. Then he bolted and I didn't see him again. I kept the key though, figuring it might be nifty to have as a trinket of some sort.

It was a couple of days later that I started to have the dreams. I can't explain them, really. It's just me walking through this hallway that seems to go on forever and there are doors all over the place. All I see is me walking down with no clue as to why or what it's about.

I try to ignore them. They're just dreams, right? But…I can't shake the feeling it's more important than that. That these dreams…mean something bigger. I just can't figure what.

I've pretty much forgotten them as I enjoy this latest party. I can't remember the name of the club. I sort of follow that whole "friend of a friend" thing to get to them, y'know? It's a bit freaky for my tastes. Lots of people around in S&M gear and some stupid makeup. It's a bit rocking, I gotta admit but I do think it's too much for me.

Unfortunately, when I try to go, some assholes tell me I can't. It's a first for me, I have to admit. I've been tossed from some clubs a couple of times but this is the first someone's told me I can't leave. I try to yell for my friends but it's like they've vanished. Probably already thrown out, which makes me wonder again why I'm being held back.

They put me in some fancy room above the club and lock the door. I pound on it but there's no response. I know there's no use screaming. Even if anyone could hear me, I doubt they'd be willing to help. They already took my phone so no way out of that one either.

I eventually lie on the small couch and curl up and fight to keep from crying. I'm scared. I admit it, I'm scared. It looks like the party may finally be over. I just wish I knew why.

"Are you ready to go?"

I start at the voice and then look up. I see someone standing before me. He's pretty hot, I gotta admit, in the big coat that billows around him and the black glasses. I just shake my head and rub by arms together. "Look, I don't know what I did wrong, ok? I just want to go home! I didn't even want the stupid key!"

"Key? What key?"

I look up at him and realize he's honestly confused. "Wait, you're not from the club?"

"No. What key?"

"I don't know, it's just this thing I got. Guy who gave it to me said it was magic," I answer as I sit up.

"Where's the key now?"

"The bouncer took it."

He nods and motions. "Come on. Let's get out of here." He heads away and I leap to my feet to follow him. I notice the door's open and I wonder how he jimmied the lock. I follow him down the short staircase and onto the main floor of the club. It's empty now except for a pack of guys near the bar.

They're…well, sort of weird, frankly. They're hunched over in dark suits and their faces look like they've got some makeup to make them look like apes. The head bouncer is a big guy with dark skin and sloped brow and in this goofy animal skin coat. He sees us coming and steps forward, the other guys behind him.

"You'd best be taking her back up," he says to Hottie, nodding at me. "_He_ wants to talk to her."

"She's not staying."

The bouncer snorts. "Who are you? Her big brother?"

"Something like that." Hotties' playing it cool, gotta admit that. "I want the key. Please."

"Please?" The bouncer chuckles. "You may be an idiot, but I can't fault your manners." The smile vanishes. "You want that key…you gotta take it from my cold dead ass."

"If that's the way it has to be."

And with that, Hottie is moving and launching himself at the bouncers. He kicks two of them back at once and then slams his elbow into another. He grabs one by the collar and sends him flying over the bar, smashing into the rack of bottles like something out of those old movies my grandpa used to watch.

The bouncer grabs him from behind and I can see Hottie's face tighten in pain as he squeezes hard. He suddenly leaps up and they both go sailing up to the ceiling. The bouncer rams into it back-first and they fall back and twist around so he lands on his back again, this time into the floor.

Hottie's moving again, punching a goon down hard. He spins and plants another with a punch and I can swear the dude's jaw just _literally_ comes apart in the blow. Hottie seems to hang in mid-air and spin before planting both feet into another freaks' jaw and sends him down.

The bouncer's back on his feet and going at Hottie but he ducks the blows and comes up, smashing his fists into ugly's face. The guy goes flying off his feet and this trenchcoat hottie grabs him by his feet and slams him down into the ground so hard it leaves an indention on the floor. Then he twirls the guy around, spinning like a top before letting him go. The bouncer goes smashing through two pillars and finally into the wall and lies still.

I'm caught by the stairs, frozen by what I just saw. Hottie goes over, checks the bouncer and then rises. He holds up a small object that flashes in the light. "Got it. Let's go." He turns and heads out the exit and to the stairs.

I follow, my mind trying to process what I saw while my mouth does its best to keep up. "You sure you wanna be running in that dress?" I follow him up the stairs, pausing as I see some guys hanging on the wall. They're wearing thongs (which with their bodies, they _seriously_ shouldn't be) and black masks and are spread-eagled, with chains hanging them to the wall. "Um, guys? The party's over. You can come down now!" I shake my head and keep up with Hottie.

We enter the anteroom that's just before the club. It's a big room with pillars around as we enter, I see another of those suited freaks seeming to bounce before us. Seriously, the guys' hopping around like a rabbit on speed. He looks at us and grins and then leaps up. His feet land on the ceiling and he just hangs there. My jaw drops as I see a couple other guys come from behind pillars, all walking on the ceiling like they're Spider-Man. They're all smiling as they pull out some guns.

"Get to cover," Hottie says. Like I couldn't have figured that out on my own, right?. I dive behind the desk where the coat clerk is and put my hands over my head as I hear gunfire sound out loud. I can hear loud bursts all around and some cries of pain. I spare a quick glance up to see Hottie firing away, one of the freaks falling from the ceiling with big red holes in him. Another burst comes by me and I duck back down. I hear more gunfire, less than before and then some grunts and sounds of blows and a few crashing sounds.

It seems like forever but I know it's only seconds before the sounds die away. I slowly peek my head up and see Hottie coming up to me. "Let's get out of here."

"Don't have to tell me twice!" I say as I leap from behind the desk and race past him, right to the elevator. I hit the button about ten times in two seconds and it still feels way too long before it opens. The doors slide shut as he looks at the row of buttons. "Which one should we push?"

I don't know why the thought flows into my head but suddenly I realize the answer. "None of them." I take out the key and slide it into the hole on the pad. "Come on, magic key, work!" I hiss as I turn it. There's a slight rumble and while it doesn't feel like we're going up or down, it does feel like we're moving somehow.

The doors slide shut and we're there. The hallway. The one I've dreamed about, stretching out before me. "Oh, man," I whisper. "It's real. I thought I imagined it!"

Hottie's looking at the key. "That's pretty handy. You should keep it around."

I shake my head as I grip it. "Uh-huh. I'm done with magic keys." I twist and tug until it snaps off, half in my hand, the other half still in the hole. I toss the other half away as Hottie and I step into the hallway. "No more keys, no more clubs, no more doorways to craziness."

"Actually," he says as he starts to take the lead. "There is one more door I want to show you. "But walking through it is going to have to be your choice."

I try to keep up, wondering what he's talking about, what this freaky hallway is about, just what in hell is going on with all of this. At the moment, there is one more important question on my mind.

"Hey, dude, you got a good car? Cause I'm not riding in any junk heap!"

**END.**


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